Dethroning Your Fear {Three Word Wednesday}

It is often said that people and animals respond to a threat in one of two ways.

Fight or Flight.

Then there's fear.

Fight or Flight- that's all survival there. Survival instinct. It is something that works beyond fear. In spite of it.

Fear works a lot like stress. Its result- paralysis.

Months back, I chose a word for this year. I prayed, sought, studied. "Fearless" commanded all other words silence, and refused to relinquish its hold on my psyche. So I chose it, and was soon warned that choosing that word could mean God would mess with me in that area. The prophecy was true and I can tell you that I have suffered more at the hand of fear this year than I can ever remember before.

That being said, I can hardly remember what I ate for breakfast, so my memory is not the most reliable gauge of my overall emotional health.

Still, the tunnel seems to be coming to an end- the light approaching ever brighter.

I can move and breathe again.

Too long have I been locked in an upper room for fear of... whatever. Name it.

I put on a good show. Muddle through in spite of the crippling thoughts that threaten to undo me. There is a lot to fear in this world, and all sorts of them have been seeking the throne in my heart reserved for God.

Not gonna lie, they have budged themselves on there more than once.

I'm not using the "respect" definition of fear. I'm talking idolatrous fear.
Because having no other gods isn't always about loving something more than God. Oftentimes, it's about ascribing more power to things other than God. Like all those things we fear.

And don't think for a second that you have to wait until you are completely immobilized by fear before it is a problem. No phobia diagnosis necessary. The moment it robs you of peace in the Lord, the moment it plants the seed of doubt, that's when it is a problem.

If we think too quickly about it all, we may try to find some way to justify our fear. I'm a mom, I'm supposed to worry. (Lie.) We are tempted to give fear credit for the fact that we are mobilized to take the reins and act in our communities. Or read our Bibles. Like those fears are driving us to our knees before the Lord.

Only fear does not do that. Ever. Survival- that's different. Love. Mercy. Grace. Those gifts from God are alone what send us searching for His peace.

Fear locks us away. It is a cunning bully that gradually shoves us in with the crowd that believed in Jesus, but were too scared to confess it because of what others might do. It leaves us helpless, frozen on an ocean in a squall.

It deafens us to Jesus' words:

"It is I; do not be afraid." (John 6:20)

It robs us of the gifts that are rightfully ours as heirs to the kingdom of God:

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives so I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid." (John 14:27)

And God knows that. It is recorded in history as one of the first emotions felt by our first mother and father after the Fall. He knew way back when, before Creation, that we would need a Savior. And that we would need a Helper. And He delivered. Just like God always does.

God may give us more than our feeble selves can handle, but His promise of salvation and a Helper are guarantees that offer real hope. Because there is nothing He cannot handle. Nothing.

Drop-kick our fear and deliver us every day, Lord.

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Linking up today with simply wonderful Simply Beth for Three Word Wednesday!

It's Summer Vacation!

Went round and round with myself. Take the summer off blogging? No? Part of me fears it would be blog suicide- what if you lovely readers never come back? The other part of me knows Jesus has raised  people from the dead before and He can do just that with a blog as well.

On the beautiful days, I will want to be outside. On the crappy days, I will have to keep my children from annihilating one another. And it's going to be mighty hard to play sheriff if I'm frustrated that I'm missing some sort of self-inflicted deadline.

Then there's all the family road trips.

Plus at this point I'm tired and not desiring to churn out "stuff" just because I have to, regardless of quality.

Ya see what I'm getting at? I guess I'm on summer vacation too.

Here's what I hope to do this summer for you all: I hope to keep posting on Facebook. I hope to put up some archived "oldies but goodies" for your perusal, in case you missed them. I hope to keep reading other blogs, yours, and be inspired. I hope to write things down as I go through life and get fresh ideas for the Fall. Sound good?

But before we part ways (and we never really will because I think about you all the time and keep you in my heart and prayers) for a time... I had an issue with my daughter the other night.

I was less than gracious. She has a nightlight right by her bed. Right. by. it. It was on.

So was the hallway light. I opened the door just wide enough that it would illuminate just her face and not the whole room. I didn't need the littlest one woken by the light.

Her issue- there were parts of her room that were still dark.

My solution- LOOK AT THE LIGHT!

But she wouldn't. It was right there and she could only cry that the darkness 5 feet from her bed was impenetrable and malicious.

Compassion was still in bed, so I was left with only Impatience.

But not God. Jesus' light is all over Scripture. We're always told to keep our eyes on Him, the author and perfecter of our faith. To focus on what is True and Lovely... To stare directly at the Son.

Because we have tendencies to act like my preschooler. To be overwhelmed by our circumstances. By the atrocities happening every day in this sinful world. By our own sinful desires and actions.

And satan beckons us to observe darkness, and to despair.

But God's solution is far different. First, look into the light. Read the Word. Find peace in the Truth of His power, love, mercy.

The Lord is my light and my salvation- whom shall I fear?

The Lord is the stronghold of my life- of whom shall I be afraid?

Psalm 27:1

And Second, realize that this light is a portable thing. Not meant to just plug in beside our beds. The Power Source is supposed to be taken out into the world. Because we have put on Christ, we put on His servanthood, His sacrifice, His new life. 

So that darkness "over there" becomes light because God made us into nightlights for Him.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

John 1:5

If you find yourself peering in the dark, I hope this blog has been a nightlight of yours. I pray you find comfort in spending time with God the Father and His word. His Spirit. His Son. I pray you live in the victory that is ours in Jesus Christ! I love you all and pray your Summer is a blessed one!

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.

John 16:33

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Last link up of the Summer with Simply Beth! 

Marigolds and Miracles {What to do When This Mess of World Steals Your Peace}

The husband is back! Safe. Sound. Here. Praise the Lord.

In his absence, my parents ventured north to help me around the home. Thank you thank you thank you...

My parents each have a specific set of skills and I know that. So I made lists. Mom and I went grocery shopping, and she assumed the role of "Laundry Fairy." My dad's list consisted of fix-it type stuff that needed to be done that we just never get around to doing. That and gardening.

"You still have a rabbit?" His question referred to the rabbit residing in our backyard our first year here. The animal was huge and destructive. And impossible to intimidate. It was because of this rabbit that I started planting marigolds. Even after the rabbit disappeared marigolds have kept their vigil and rabbits have kept away from my garden.

This past weekend, as I put my garden in the ground, sowing seeds and plants into the black earth, the marigolds stood small sentries.

Then I thought of my children.

Little sprouts growing, bearing fruit.

It is enough to scare the daylights out of me. Because I'm not guarding them against ravenous rabbits, but a lion seeking someone to devour.

And Christ's admonition falls heavy on my shoulders, "Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them..."

If Christ was talking about simple Sunday school and church, I could rest easy. Check and check. Enroll them in VBS... Check. After-school church programs... Check.

But something tells me that Christ is talking the walk. 

And I am easily convinced that if anyone is hindering their walk with Christ, it's me.

Casting stones and careless words. Is that really giving my children Jesus?

Not to mention a world ravaged by wars, strife, struggle. Abroad. Domestic. Human beings are capable of such atrocities and I am one and the same. What can my feeble efforts do to stop the world from breaking my young ones to bits?

I drown in thoughts, reaching toward scriptures until I surface. I am buoyed by one in particular:

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

Philippians 4:8

At one time I hastened through this verse, summarizing "just think about the happy things," as though pixie dust and happy thoughts would carry me over cares.

But that's not what it says. Focus on what is true. I list the truths, deliberately. The Truth illuminates the dark dread. The Beauty of Christ is the antidote to the fear poison.

I can worry myself sick. Fears consume in ways no "happy thoughts" can battle. But when I focus on what is true, just, pure, lovely, commendable... I am reminded of God. Of His love, power, mercy, providence. It has never depended on me. That was never the point. All along I was only to plant the marigolds and trust the Maker. 

Relief. Release.

Plant marigolds. Build fences. Resist the fear that would compel us to smother our sprouts "for their own protection." 

Instead, trust the Only One who has overcome the world. The One who began this good work in us in the first place, and Who promises to bring it to completion. 

Where His truth reigns, there reigns peace. Where His wisdom prevails, there prevails peace. Where His peace permeates, the world cannot overcome.

And it is in His peace that the big kids and little children of the world encounter Christ.

But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere.

James 3:17

Welcome to the Conspiracy {Messy Monday}

"Christmas marks the moment where God's promise was fulfilled and love took form, tiny fingers and all. "

- The Advent Conspiracy

I'm not sharing this because I am proud of it. I'm just hoping maybe there are some folks out there who relate.

See, I cried over a vacuum cleaner.

To be fair, it was a nice vacuum cleaner. A Dyson. I have four kids and a dog. It's a zoo up in here, and I thought perhaps the messy Mondays would be a bit more tolerable if I had an awesome vacuum to sweeten the deal.

I fought hard for that puppy on Black Friday. (Not literally. Online.) Dealt with slow websites, accidental page clicks, bargain hunting, forgotten passwords, typing in credit card information repeatedly.

Here's the deal though- I don't have a credit card. I use my husband's, and that's all good. Except when it asks me for my phone number and I enter my own number- not his.

That's when I receive emails on the following day telling me the amazing deal I thought I had has been cancelled due to an error with payment processing.

That's when I cry.

That's when the credit card company freezes the card so I can't order another vacuum (mine was now out of stock).

That's when my husband gets text messages from his credit card company asking if he indeed made a purchase at that retailer for that sum of money. He answers yes. The card is reactivated.

I look between him and the vacuum cleaner on screen. Back and forth. I ask, "With all the junk I've had to go through for this thing, do you have the feeling that maybe it's just not meant to be?"

He nods yes. "Give it up."

I do. I give one last longing look at the item I don't need, yet covet. I click the little red "x" and close the computer.

Saturday morning, all over the world, children were dying of cold and starvation. Dear friends were suffering from terminal illnesses. And I used those realities to try to shake me out of the funk I was in. It really was not worth crying over. But I didn't care. I was angry. I was disappointed. It just sucked (pun intended). I threw a temper tantrum over a thing.

I really should know better.

I really should have learned from last year, when I let the insane rush of the season sweep away my joy and toss it into the garbage sack of used wrapping paper.

If you think something like this just happens, you're wrong. There is a very deliberate scheme out there planned by the father of lies himself. He is determined to steal your joy- to disconnect Christmas with the Christ. To entice us to trade the profound and incomparable gift of the Savior for the shiniest new toy.

Satan tells us that spending less at Christmas, sacrificing more, will leave us less satisfied than those earthly items we desire.

And I fall for it.

Thankfully, there are godly people out there exposing the lie. Reminding the gullible me, and those like me, that there is absolutely nothing more fulfilling than the Christ-child.

So, how do I live like this with my family? How do I convince my daughter that "No really, Jesus is way better than the American Girl doll everyone else has," and make it a matter of heart- not budget?

I take her aside- out of the river that rushes her over the edge of the waterfall into materialism. I show her that what Christ has to offer is so surpassingly awesome. We don't have to take anything away from our Christmas festivities, unless it's in the same way that I vacuum the Christmas tree pine needles that fall dead to our living room floor.

I expose the Advent Conspiracy for what it is- an elaborate attempt to buy Jesus out of His own season. Out of every season.

Satan doesn't force us to do it. We do it all by ourselves.

The Advent Conspiracy website has excellent tools to help combat the excess. The gift-giving is good, sweet. I even do Santa Claus. It is idolization of it all- the moment when I take the credit for "giving" my children Christmas, instead of glorifying the real Giver- that is the danger.

(And I just have to make this note: I praise God for a husband who deliberately reminds me of all this. Who takes me out of the race, sits me down, and helps me recalibrate my priorities.)

Remembering the suffering of others, looking to the destitute, comparing our worldly riches to those less fortunate- that will never ever shake us out of our self-centered funk.

Only Christ can do that.

"In Him was life, and that life was the light of men."

John 1:4

We can't overcome the darkness of selfishness by shining more darkness onto it- God alone can overcome it by shining His own light into it. And that's exactly what He came to do!

We can't purchase our happiness anymore than we can adopt ourselves into the family of God. He came to do that too!

"But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name,

he gave the right to become children of God."

John 1:12

 

So this Advent please pray for me. I am so honored to have wonderful people interceding on my behalf. And I'll make you a deal- I'll pray for you too. May we be a mighty army of believers who let the light of the world shine in and through our lives and so experience a more fulfilling Christmas than ever before.

More Than Tissue Paper Christians

They scurry in the door.

 

Backpacks thud on the kitchen table top.

 

Frenzied zippers fling open and the mouth of the bag opens wide.

 

Little mittened hands shove full-force into the void.

 

And emerge. With a plastic bag of treasures.

 

Their classes have one assignment for the week:

Turn off your screens and turn on your minds.

 

To aid in the effort, the school sends home 2 gallon Ziplocs filled with odds and ends. Yarn, tissue paper, glue sticks, straws. paper plate etc.

 

Project time. Make something, anything, creative. Then turn it in. Relentless doodads, claiming residency on my kitchen table. Evicted every single day.

 

He makes puppets. She makes a... can you guess it?

 

 

It's a chandelier.

 

She's got vision. She just plans as she goes. A little duct tape here. A flashlight there. Voila.

 

It's a masterpiece she is proud of, therefore so am I.

 

She clicks the button and the flashlight burns bright, the tissue paper letting the light through. Not all

of it, but some. With a gentle green glow.

 

Not transparent, translucent.

 

I've been struggling with this parable. Is this what we want to be? Translucent? Casting a gentle glow of Jesus, with just a tint of ourselves?

 

I want to say yes- because God made each of us unique. He gave each of us gifts to shine His glory into a dark world. But I'm confronted with Matthew 5- a city on a hill that cannot be hidden.

 

Translucence is not the goal.

 

I wouldn't say the most faithful witnesses I know are translucent- I'd say they were transparent. Or at least pretty close. Brightly colored by the Creator God, but seeking to shine Him everywhere.

 

Absolute beacons of hope.



 

So then, what if our beacon doesn't amount to much more than an LED bulb shining through the middle of a paper plate covered in tissue paper? That's how I feel. How much is enough? How transparent do I need to be?

 

I confess. I'd rather be wrapping paper than tissue paper.

 

And tissue paper rather than crystal clear glass.

 

Then maybe we need to remember Who the light is that is streaming through our chandelier. Not so we can try to take over. Try to shine harder for Him. He is the only one who can do the shining.

 

All we need to do is get out of His way.

 

The things that cloud God's love in my life all have to do with me. Is that how it is for you too?

 

We just get scared.

 

Because getting out of the way means giving up the control.

 

But Who better to take control in our lives than the One Who holds all of life in the balance in the first place?

 

The One Who gave up His life for ours.

 

The One Who rose again, and Who gives us the joy of the resurrection every single day.

 

The One Who knows us better than we know ourselves and Who is sufficient for us.

 

When we focus on the true Light of the World, instead of the vessels that carry Him, letting Him through is not only less frightening- it's far more satisfying.

 

Praying that He shines undeniable love, forgiveness, grace, and mercy into and through your lives today, every day. More and more.

 

 “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven." Matthew 5:14-16

 

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I'm joining up with Missional Women today for Faith Filled Friday! Come on over and join us!



Fill Me Up

 

"Dad and I had a talk tonight."

 

They talked earlier in the afternoon. I had been on the phone with a friend, but their disappearance caught my attention. Snippets of their conversation had floated into the kitchen. Now it seemed the conversation was on her mind again.

 

"Really? What about?"

 

"Um. Well, I don't think I should talk to you about it."

 

"Ok... why not?"

 

"Well, we just got it all figured out and I don't think I need to bring it up again."

 

 

A couple hours later I sat on the couch, knowing what I wanted to write, but not sure how to get it out.

 

Then my husband told me. Our sweet daughter with the big heart acted out of character. Mean.

 

And my heart breaks because all she wanted to do was fit in. For once. Been there.

 

My daughter is weird, and she's just about the most refreshing weirdo you could meet. She really truly loves Jesus and lives like it. She loves everyone because that's what Jesus does.

 

So it broke my heart to hear her struggle because there are times when her specialness isn't enough for her. When she would trade the very thing that sets her apart, that makes her look like Jesus, just so she could look like everyone else.

 

My heart breaks for other daughters. Sons too. People like me. People who sometimes would rather just fit in. Who would trade our love for our neighbor just so we could join in the gossip, or not look odd for keeping company with the less desirable crowd. Who would forfeit the new creation for the old Adam.

 

Let's be honest- doesn't it just seem easier? Easier to make decisions based on what we want? Easier to keep "our" money and buy nicer things? Easier to spout our opinions- giving no regard for speaking the truth in love. Easier to have a conversation completely ignoring whether or not that person has saving faith or anyone serving them in Jesus' name?

 

Maybe I'm the only one, but I've read enough of the Psalms and Ecclesiastes to figure this mindset isn't anything new under the sun. And I'm pretty sure the Israelites didn't scurry after foreign gods because they didn't know it was wrong. Being chosen by God wasn't quite enough- they wanted to be chosen by their neighbors too. They wanted to fit in. So on the off-chance you ever find yourself camping out with me, my eldest, and the Israelites yearning for the easy road, maybe my girl, myself, and you, my dear friends, can learn a lesson from a maple I once knew:

 

It was a sad moment in an otherwise raucous celebration over FaceTime. Unable to join the rest of the family for Thanksgiving, they feasted a couple weekends early and we joined in later over the iPad to see all the darling faces. That's when my father-in-law broke the news. He had some trees taken down. 

 

I had no particular attachment to any of them, except one. The attachment is shared by many others, and for that reason my father-in-law was hoping the tree could get by with just a trim.

 

See, it holds the tire swing.

 

The tree service man inspected the tree, and there was no question about it. The tree had to go.

 

There was one crucial fact that my father in law could not see from where he stood.

 

The tree was hollow. The fact that none of the limbs had crashed into the house can be received as nothing short of a true blessing.

 

It's hard to believe it. To look at a tree so strong, so loved, and discover it's hollow.

 

It's not so different with the people around us. Looking strong. Standing tall.

 

But from where we stand, we don't see the whole picture.

 

Only One is privy to that information.

 

One strong gale and it all comes crashing down.

 

There's one truth that the Liar wants us to forget: being hollow, taking the easy road, doesn't make anything easier.

 

If you are tempted to believe your unbelieving neighbors might have it better than you in at least some areas of life, just talk to them. Really talk.

 

* Hollow is an eye for an eye. Being filled with the spirit is freedom to love. (Who wants to keep track of all those eyes anyway?)

 

* Hollow is "I make my own way." Being filled with the spirit is freedom to be made into our true selves by the Master Craftsman.

 

* Hollow is uncertainty about God. About the future, and who will care when I'm gone. Being filled with the spirit is certain hope, an imperishable soul waiting for a glorious reunion.

 

* Hollow is an incomplete definition of love, a sickly shadow of it. Being filled with the spirit is knowing a completely sufficient and unconditional love that we don't even have to earn.

 

* Hollow is... empty.

 

* Being filled with the spirit is being full:

 

of light (Luke 11:34)

 

of grace (John 1:16)

 

of joy (John 15:11)

 

of goodness (Romans 15:14)

 

of the love of God (Ephesians 3:19)

 

of courage (Philippians 1:20)

 

of knowledge (Philemon 1:6)

 

of assurance (Hebrews 6:11)

 

of mercy and good fruits (James 3:17)

 

of God (Ephesians 3:19)

 

Because even if you think you have nothing else going for you, Jesus + nothing still equals Jesus.

 

And Jesus is all that matters.

 

Praying that we all praise the Lord today for filling us up. May the forest of believers stand strong, pointing the way to our Creator.

 

But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God's people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy. 1 Peter 2:9-10

 

 

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Today I am linking up with Simply Beth for Three Word Wednesday and Michell for Doing You Well Wednesday! Click on the button, join in the reading, writing, and fun!

Messy Monday: Messy and Blind

I took my life into my own hands last week. Or my legs at least.

With the increasing darkness around us (and I'm not speaking metaphorically here), morning runs have become significantly more treacherous and the sidewalks around this town are a mess. When we first moved here I wondered why everyone walked on the streets. Then I saw the sidewalks. Bingo.

So I was cruising enjoying that moist morning coolness when I saw headlights ahead. Out of courtesy to the drive and regard for my own life, I cut into the nearest yard and climbed onto the sidewalk.

Bad move.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I chanted to myself in the darkness as I leapt from block to block of sidewalk, bracing myself for the inevitable crack or chasm that would send me plummeting to the concrete floor beneath with any variety of twists, sprains, or breaks.

In the light, it's no big deal really. The dips, the rises, the cracks, are all perfectly visible. The light gives me depth perception. It gives me sight.

The other morning I was running alone and blind.

And it wasn't the first time.

 

Perhaps that's one of the most terrifying things about darkness. The illusion that you are alone.

Even the most dangerous circumstance seems somehow surmountable as long as there is someone with you. As long as you aren't all alone.

I taught my Sunday School kids yesterday that God separated the light from the darkness and for them it was a plain fact, but for me the fact burrowed into my own dark places...

There is no darkness that God does not control.

 

There is no place, no matter how dark, where God cannot be found.

 

If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
    and the light about me be night,”
even the darkness is not dark to you;
    the night is bright as the day,
    for darkness is as light with you.

Psalm 139:11-12

 

I could quote scripture after scripture about light and darkness.

 

How the light is hope.

 

How the light overcomes.

 

How the light is Jesus.

 

And crossing from darkness to light, there are no verses more meaningful.

 

 But for the sake of those around us, groping through darkness, believing the deception that they are all alone, scared to death, I give you this: 

 

 For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.

2 Corinthians 4:5-7

 

Sometimes those of us who walk in the light forget how larger-than-our-weak-little-selves the darkness was.

 

We forget the despair.

 

We like to pretend this is the way it always was.

 

Because to admit otherwise might expose those dark places that we would really rather keep to ourselves.

 

And why would we, having certainly escaped the judgment of God through the blood of His Son, offer up our lives to be judged by others?

 

Because we are living sacrifices. Because that is our cross.

 

Because there is no place where light is more glorious than when it is shining in the midst of palpable blackness.

 

Because no one is ever really alone.

 

Because people are dying in darkness, and we have a God of light.

 

Because Jesus did it for us.

 

Because all the power really belongs to Him anyway.

 

And we are sons and daughters of the King. A royal priesthood, a chosen nation.

 

 

It's a get well card for a friend who suffered a similar injury to what she endured.

 

Sometimes that's all it takes.

 

Lord, open our eyes to the pain and darkness around us today. Let us be lights to shine Your glory in ways that cannot be ignored. Pour out Your love in the world around us and give us the heart of Your Servant to be vessels of that love. Amen.



Mission Fielding

 

We've arrived. 'Tis the season to join arms with just about every family in our small town and surrounding areas to cheer on our young ones as they compete in what some would consider America's greatest pastime. Softball. Baseball.

 

 

I still hear it from my sister, the softball star. I'd look up from my book just long enough to watch her bat, then down went the nose and I was back to the grindstone.

 

 

My son understands the temptation to self-entertain when the going gets slow in a sibling game.

 

But now I pay attention.That's my daughter out there. I laugh. I cheer.

 

Even when the slow roller inches its way across the infield and the pitcher, shortstop, and third baseman all descend upon it like owls on a mouse. They collide like the actors in those heartfelt family misfit comedies, and we laugh like they're behind a screen and can't hear us.

 

And after a few more of those little mishaps you begin to thank Jesus for the long ride home because otherwise you just might be tempted to turn these collisions into a drinking game.

 

I've been playing closer attention lately, perhaps also because I've been struggling with this whole position-playing life of ours. When do I bat? Or am I already doing that? Or am I on deck? Surely I'm deck for something really great- some really great act of faith for the furthering of God's kingdom. On deck, right? No? In the dugout? Or am I more defensive, fighting the urge to field a mission meant for someone else?

 

See what I mean? It gets tricky.

 

 

Last weekend, I had the most amazing opportunity that I don't take often enough. I had an afternoon to listen to missionaries to Hong Kong, and then participate in the sending of five missionaries, some to Lima and Peru.  There is no where in the world like Mission Central. No. where.

 

With tears for every story, I listened and wondered, "Could I do that?" "Why am I not doing that?"

 

"Lord, could you call my family to do that?"

 

Because there is something so attractive about light shining in the darkness. And you just want to grab a hint of it.

 

After the presentations and sending, Gary introduced me to one of his dear friends (I've never met a man with more)- I was Lauren, "the real missionary."

 

I smiled a blurry smile as Gary's words hit me in the way I knew he intended.

 

My heart had been aching for what it already had.

 

I watch those around me fielding missions God has meant for them, all the while forgetting that the mission I serve is still His mission. Like my daughter, I look longingly at those playing different, "important," positions and wonder why not me, ignoring that He has been training me all along for the position I am in.

 

We don't have to question where we play, when we know for Whom we play.

 

We don't have to anticipate the next great act of faith when the One in whom we place our faith makes every act great.

 

He is the definition of great,

 

We don't have to determine the magnitude of our mission, when the Mission Himself has already acted on behalf of all humankind. It is His mission, we are just witnesses to it, living in gratitude for it.

 

Because as much as I absolutely love being a wife and mother, daughter, sister, friend, it's not really about me anyway. It's about Him. There is peace in that. Joy, love, and hope.

Five Minute Friday: Jump

For Five Minutes this Friday I went somewhere I don't normally go. Why the prompt "Jump" would bring me there I have no idea, but that is part of the fun of this exercise. No editing, no backtracking, no fancy-fying are three blind mice that open eyes in writers as much as readers. So I took the five minutes and gave the five minutes back. If you want to join me and the other AMAZING writers around the world doing this very prompt, check out the Five Minute Friday link at the bottom of the right hand column. Or just go and read the other blogs. But first, read this.

GO

They’re coming for us.

It is uttered from the dark.

Who’s they?

I don’t know yet. But they are.

And they won’t rest until they get every last one of us.

And it’s a phrase spoken not in fear, but as fact. I give my husband 15-20 years before he’s jailed for his Gospel proclamations.

Because, for the first time, I see the battle raging on the homefront and the enemy’s tactics increasingly clear, and I see him gaining ground.

I mentally prepare the young troups. Strategies cry out and I feel the desperation of a leader in battle. We must be ready.

I wake this morning and turn on my 2-dimensional trainer.

It’s plyometrics today- “jump training,” Tony calls it.

“You’ll jump higher,” he promises.

“You’ll run faster.”

I believe he even says I’ll “beat the panties” off anyone else.

And my heart and lungs will be stronger than ever.

So I jump.

My knees protest. My thighs, my feet, my mind, my heart- a deafening chorus of protest.

But I jump.

And I pump.

I extend.

I swivel, pivot, raise, and the fancy plates on the wall join the protestations.

Yet, I jump.

And the burning in my legs and heart and lungs tell me that I am doing the hard things to prepare for the battle.

And I open the Word. And I do the hard things. I train. I jump.

Not so I can be the best jumper. My husband coaches better jumpers than I.

Not so I can be the best Biblical scholar. I’m light-years behind so many.

Because I will face physical battles, and the jumping will ease the blow.

Because the spiritual powers wage their battles as well, and I have a God who is mightier than anyone can imagine. And He is my trainer. And the battle will be waged. And the war will be won.

And that makes all this jumping more than worth it.

 

STOP

What You Can Do When You Can't Do Anything



He must be the father of lies, because when that serpent enticed Eve to eat, he said her eyes would be opened.

 

So why can we see no farther than my three year old on a walk through the park?

 

 

 

Why is swimming in sin described as being covered by darkness?

 

We hear about a blind man leading another blind man.

 

And they both fall into the pit.

 

Is it just me or does it seem like this world is just one big heap of blind men leading each other into pits, and dragging every sorry soul down with them?

 

And we talk to them about finding Jesus. Look at my daughter. Who is she finding? If not for her mother, she would have bit it hard and her face would have found nothing but concrete lickety-split.

 

Find Jesus? Friend, most people can't find their way out of their own circumstances, let alone past them to search for a Messiah they aren't even sure exists. Uh-uh. I've seen people looking. Looking hard. But to be honest, it's only when they are down in a pit so utterly devoid of light that they find Him.

 

Because He found them first.

 

Maybe it isn't that hard for everyone. Maybe it's just me and a select few that have had to grope in the darkness. Maybe there are those people, those women, who one day said, "Ready or not, here I come," and found the Lord right where they were. Maybe.

 

But the scene I'm picturing is more like one in those prison movies. Like The Shawshank Redemption. Being thrown into the "hole." 

 

Steep in that a second. Solitary confinement. It's the particularly egregious sins that land you there. My most flagrant sins had me there. A solitary soul confined to an impenetrable cell of sin.

 

And then the door swings open and the light shines in.

 

And you're either facing the merciless warden from Shawshank who tells you that there is no grace for you. You are a prisoner for life. (Yes, that message does come out of the mouths of those who claim to represent the Light.)

 

Or, you simply face the Light. The blinding light that opens your eyes on a road that would otherwise lead to your utter destruction. The illuminating light that reveals that you never really were solitary in your confinement because, you see, Christ was there with you. 

 

You were never really alone.

 

You still aren't.

 

Some would say that's well and good, but what about those stumbling beggars outside our doors leading parades into pits and leaving others to grieve over their fallen loved ones?

 

And what if I, this sinner-saint, am not really shielding my eyes from the sun, but from the Son?

 

And they are dragging me down too.

 

And I'm tired of fighting.

 

Then take these words. Take this courage. Do not be afraid to open your eyes and stare directly at the Son as you read His lips:

 

The Lord sets the prisoners free;

the Lord opens the eyes of the blind.

The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down;

the Lord loves the righteous.

The Lord watches over the sojourners;

He upholds the widow and the fatherless,

but the way of the wicked He brings to ruin.

Psalm 146:7b-9

 

The Lord. Anyone else think we should leave the worrying to Him? Anyone else think it's time to lay down our weapons, and lay down our palms on the road to honor the King of the universe?

 

Anyone else think it's time to lay it all down?

 

I once was lost, but now am found. Was blind, but now I see.

 

In our passivity- Christ's activity. Who needs the strength of God unless they are weak in themselves?

 

Hope is good only for those who know that all other signs point to hopeless.

 

It's the sick that need a doctor.

 

For those of us who have done the stumbling, felt the ache- to watch those who are where we have been is excruciating. We can't remove the hand they use to cover their eyes. Only the Spirit can lift that veil. If you think that is your job, you will rob yourself of that relationship, and many nights' sleep.

 

If you think that is your job, hear the words of Beth Moore: Fire yourself.

 

But here is what we can do: we can take their other hand. The one that isn't fighting the Son, if there is one. And we can whisper the Son's light onto and into their lives so that, despite their dark vision, they can't help but feel His warmth kiss their cheek.

 

Paul described this Christian life of testimony in tribulation to the Thessalonians:

 

Rejoice always,

pray without ceasing,

give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

~1Thessalonians 5:16-18

 

That courageous, transparent faith in the midst of the dark nights of our days-

that is a witness that cannot be ignored.